Who: Iron Bull and Anders. What: Meeting in person. When Recently! Where: The grocery store. Warnings: Nothing, really, pretty tame swears. Status: Complete!
Grocery shopping for Anders was normally a pretty easy affair. Neither he nor Tink were any good at cooking, so he mostly just bought microwavable meals, sandwich fixings, and cereal, sometimes fruits or vegetables that didn't really require any cooking. Things that were quick and easy and didn’t require him to spend much time to prepare so he didn’t need to pull himself away from his work for as long.
It was hard to miss the very large, buff man who seemed to tower over most people around him, and it only took Anders a moment to recognize him as the qunari MMA fighter from the Network. As he was standing next to something Anders needed, Anders figured he'd say hello. It was possible that Bull had dreamed of the events in Kirkwall - most of the Thedosians on the Network had seemed to have dreamed further than Anders had - but he had he had never actually talked about them with Anders, which Anders counted as a point in the taller man's favour.
"Bull, right?" Anders asked.
Bull blinked, cocking his head to the side at the shorter man. Blond hair, pretty eyes - it all matched dream Varric’s description of Blondie. Bull also knew that guy was on the network, and had talked to him a few times. He also knew that Red wanted to keep a close eye on him.
“Anders.” Bull’s voice was a warm rumble that was almost a cat’s purr, but more like a tiger’s than a domestic cat. “Good to see you. Am I in your way?” He moved to the side, having been comparing the prices on a couple different kinds of bread. Bull was a lot more of the ‘eat drink and be merry’ sort, but he hated getting shortchanged for shit.
“Hardly,” Anders said, though the loaf of multigrain that he grabbed was where Bull had been standing. He wasn’t really sure how he felt about the fact that Bull recognized him. He didn’t stand out quite as easily as the other man, but they were both on the Network and dreamed of the same world, and really, how interested could Qunari be in the affairs of mages and the Chantry? It was probably nothing that Anders needed to get paranoid about. “It’s good to see you as well. You’re looking far less gray than I expected you to be.”
“I have a glamour. Mage gave it to me. She was kind enough to put it in something I wear every day, so I don’t forget to put it on. I do have to remember that I’m actually about five inches taller than this, so I don’t take a header into a doorframe.” Bull was loading up on sweets. His boyfriend had moved out, and Bull wasn’t thrilled about it, but knew there was nothing he could do.
"Oh, I have one of those as well," Anders said. A fox pendant that he wore as a necklace under his shirt. It had come from his dreams, a gift from a Bann he had rescued the first time he had escaped from Kinloch Hold, already enchanted so as to raise his mana, but Elaine had also equipt a charm to it. "So I don't glow when I use magic. I didn't realize they could be used to change your appearance though." “That’s smart, actually.” Bull thought it was smart to hide shit like that as a tactical advantage, especially if someone was gonna use magic on the regular anyway. “So you’re still healing a lot?”
“I could have never done it on my own,” Anders said. “It’s truly amazing the different kinds of magic we have around here. I’ve been trying to heal as much as I can. I can’t do anything major that would draw suspicion, but it’s very useful to do a little bit during surgery to help speed along the healing process, or to treat some of the minor wounds that come through my clinic.”
Bull smiled. He didn’t understand how this guy was the guy that had royally fucked over Thedas in the name of helping out mages. He seemed sweet and harmless, a bit like a kitten. “That’s good of you. There was a healer in my company, Stitches, and he just had to make do with traditional salves and stuff.”
“Well, we don’t all have the healing hands,” Anders said, wiggling his fingers a little playfully. Even among mages, the ability to heal to any competent degree was rare. It required a certain affinity to spirits. It wasn’t something Anders had really truly understood until he and Justice had joined, despite Wynne’s lessons. “Though learning how to make salves and the like takes talent in itself.” Anders often did make poultices and salves in his dreams for people, though it wasn’t a skill he had been working on here.
“Stitches was a good guy. Apparently you’re not supposed to drink the stuff you dip the cloth in for wounds. Who fuckin’ knew?” Bull did know, and he also knew it worked just as well that way, and it stung less too. Stitches indulged him, which had always made Bull smile. “Honestly, the people are what I wish would show up from the dreams the most. That and the booze.” There were days Bull would punch someone in the face in return for some Chasind mead.
“I can’t imagine drinking it is very appetizing,” Anders said, smiling. None of his patients had ever tried to drink his salves, as far as he knew, but the thought was an amusing one. “I do miss the people from my dreams, though.” Sigrun and Varric and Hawke especially. Especially Hawke. He had rather strong feelings for her, and it seemed as though she felt the same way, though he had turned her away. He was a little glad for that here, it would almost feel a little like cheating on Tink. Though, there were other people he was, frankly, glad that he hadn’t seen here.
“It got it over with faster,” Bull shrugged. He smiled a little to himself, remembering the time he’d lead the Chargers giant baiting. Sometimes he just wanted to call Dalish a mage just one more time. Sometimes he wanted to tease dream Dorian until he snuck into his tent. Though that one was a lot less since he’d actually dated Dorian while they were awake. Really, Bull was just feeling a bit discombobulated lately and he didn’t like it. “Sometimes I feel like for all the bullshit they put us through, our dream lives are easier.”
“That’s because you’re not a mage,” Anders said, the lightheartedness in his voice replaced with a anger that simmered just beneath the surface.
“Fair point. I took them in, and I loved one, but I wasn’t, no. Just a Tal-Vashoth.” Bull squared his shoulders. Sure, mages had their hardships, but those were sort of uniform. Other mages could understand. Nobody would understand Bull’s plight but another Tal-Vashoth, and the odds of one of those slipping through were nil. And even then, Bull wasn’t one of the ones who went against the Qun out of spite, or was born out of it. He went against the Qun because he outgrew it.
But it made Bull remember that history had a weird way of repeating itself. “There’s a few mages here, though. I wonder if magic is the same in other Dreams.” Distraction but also ingratiation: Bull used the tactic often.
“Tal-Vashoth. I suppose you would have to be if you loved a mage,” Anders said, the anger in his voice replaced with a touch of bitterness. Anders was pleased that Bull had left the Qun, or was never part of it. He didn’t seem like a bad sort, but, well, the Qun wasn’t any better than the Chantry. One could argue it was worse.
“I’ve only met one other mage from Thedas, though he hasn’t dreamed much yet. But I’ve talked to a couple other magic users who dream of other worlds. It all seems wildly different. It’s pretty interesting though to hear about some of it. I’ve wondered sometimes if it would be possible to learn magic from other Dreams.”
“I didn’t become Tal-Vashoth for Dorian. I did it because I wouldn’t sacrifice my company for the sake of a mission. Qun be damned, they trusted me.” Bull crossed his arms, standing up a little taller. “Dorian’s probably the other mage you’re thinking of. I don’t know if he’ll remember me the same way I remember him.”
Which was something Bull didn’t really want to think about anyway? So he thought about Anders learning magic from other places. It would make the already angry man more powerful, but that was only if it was even possible. “Maybe. It would be interesting to see what would happen.”
“I would never imply that you’d leave the Qun for something like that. Leaving because it’s a belief system that somehow manages to be more oppressive than the Chantry should be reason enough. Good on you for not sacrificing your company though.” He hadn’t really met an qunari before he had relocated to Kirkwall, but the ones who were occupying the place hadn’t made the best impression on him.
“Dorian is who I meant,” Anders said, smiling a little. “I’m not entirely sure if it would be possible. For instance, I’m sure that other dreamers couldn’t learn my brand of magic, as they wouldn’t be connected to the Fade. But perhaps there are types out there that anyone can learn if they wish.”
Bull just ignored Anders’ comments about the Qun. It was easier to do that then engage, something that Solas had taught him in his dreams. “I’d think it would depend on where the magic comes from. You tap into the Fade, right? What if someone else taps into a thing you can’t access, or vice versa? But I’d assume if you could tap into magic that comes from, say, the ground, or cats or something - “ Yeah, Bull knew about Anders and cats. “ - then you’d be set.”
Anders’ face lit up at the idea of drawing magic from cats. “I don’t think anything would make me happier than drawing magic from cats,” he said. “Sir Pounce-A-Lot and I would be an unbeatable force if that was the case,” he joked.
“I read a book where people had animal companions that were manifestations of their souls. Maybe that’s what he is to you.” Bull smiled a little. Qunari weren’t super sentimental, but he loved his dog. “I have a dog named Tater Tot. Freaked out a while back when he got lost.”
“That’s a nice thought,” Anders said, smiling a little. “I certainly felt like I had to give up a little bit of my soul when the Wardens made me get rid of Sir Pounce-A-Lot in the dreams.” He didn’t particularly like dogs, though Hawke’s dog in the dreams wasn’t awful. He was still too big and slobbery and openly affectionate, but well, he was okayish. “He got lost? I’m glad to hear that you found him again.”
“I know why they made you do it - loyalties make you weak - but that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Bull groused. That was why the Qunari didn’t have families or spouses - individual loyalties made one weaker when it came to dying for the Qun or sacrificing things. It was why he’d been outcast as Tal-Vashoth when he wouldn’t sacrifice the Chargers. “I think they forget though that sometimes you can draw strength from those loyalties.” Bull fought harder for the Chargers. Thought smarter.
“I’m glad too. Tater’s adorable, but stupid as hell.” He reached into his pocket for his phone and showed Anders a picture of a sleeping English bulldog. “He’d be more inclined to sleep on your cat than chase him. Last time another dog tried to intimidate him, he just laid down and farted.” The dog was the opposite of fierce.
“They can be used against you,” Anders agreed. “They try to discourage people from forming bonds in the Circle, too, though I suspect that’s not so much because they forget that you can draw strength from it so much as they fear us drawing strength from it.” There would be no way the Templars could keep the mages locked away in the tower if they didn’t find ways of making sure that no close relations could be formed.
Oh goodie. A photo of a dog. Just what Anders always wanted. And this dog looked especially drooly. “He’s very… wrinkly,” Anders said after a moment. He didn’t want to outright insult Bull’s dog. People seemed to get very attached to their mutts. “He looks pretty solid. I’m not sure Sir Pounce-A-Lot would appreciate being slept on.”
“See? The Qun isn’t alone in being particularly dickish.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, giving Anders’ shoulder a gentle squeeze. While Red might want to keep the guy under watch, Bull had an inkling that if there was even a hint of control exerted on Anders, that would be when he would crack. The trick with him would be to give him his freedom.
Anders’ comments about dogs were so sweet in how they were trying to be kind that Bull laughed again, a booming, ringing thing. “I think of him less as a dog and more as a stinky roommate. I never went to college, so it’s kind of my way of having a frat house.”
“No, it’s not,” Anders said. “I’m not sure if there’s any institution that is singular in their mistreatment of their citizens.” That was just as true for here as it was in the Dreams, though the governments here were more insidious in their oppression of the masses. Anders’ revolution may have backfired in the Dreams from all he was told, but he wouldn’t allow it to do the same here.
“A stinky, needy roommate?” Anders asked, smiling a little because he thought of his cats kind of like his roommates as well. “Personally, if you wanted a pet to act as a roommate, I can’t recommend cats enough. They only bother you when they want something instead of following you around with all of that open affection.”
“Tater Tot’s that way too, really. I always say he’s pretty catlike. He only bugs me when he has to poop. And yeah, dog poop’s a bigger pain ‘cause you have to pick it up everywhere, but Tater’s mostly a ‘pet me when I want you to, okay, I’d like to go back to sleep’ sort of thing.”
"I don't believe I've ever heard anyone describe their dog as cat-like before," Anders said. He'd heard of people say their cats were like dogs, as if that wasn't an insult to feline kind anywhere, but it was a little refreshing to hear. "Maker thank whoever invented litter boxes," he said. "He does sound like a pretty good dog though. Hawke had a dog in the dreams, and I suppose he wasn't a bad sort."
Bull smiled. “There’s exceptions to every rule. Qunari aren’t supposed to fall in love with ‘Vints, but I did it. You liked a dog. Miracles happen.”
Anders couldn’t help but laugh boisterously. “Okay, that’s a fair point. If I meet Tater, I will be sure to keep an open mind.”
Moving to clap his hand on Anders’ back in a fraternal way, Bull chuckled. “Well, I should get going. I’m cooking dinner tonight and my boyfriend might come over. We should get drinks sometime. You can tell me more about Sir Pounce.”
Anders braced himself when Bull clapped him on the back. Qunari strength was nothing to shake a stick at. “If you’re inviting me to talk about Sir Pounce-A-Lot, it’s going to be a long night,” Anders teased a little. “But it was nice finally meeting you. We will certainly have to get drinks together sometime. Have a good night.”
Bull tipped an invisible hat, smiling at Anders. In addition to being stoked to make a new friend, he hopes that he could keep an eye on the mage, if only to alleviate Red’s suspicions. He didn’t seem so bad, but Bull knew that good people could be capable of bad things. At least he got to keep the cat.